


Remember

by iam93percentstardust



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Dark Magic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-11-07 18:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11064471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iam93percentstardust/pseuds/iam93percentstardust
Summary: The villagers of Godric’s Hollow are startled to hear an explosion from a home that they didn’t even know existed. The responders are shocked to find three bodies.





	Remember

It wasn’t late that Halloween night. It wasn’t anywhere near the hour of teenage pranks and mischief, which is why the villagers of Godric’s Hollow knew that something was wrong when a loud explosion shook the night.

Children stopped with their bags full of candy. Neighbors paused with their doors half closed. Somewhere, an infant started to cry. All stood, staring at the house on the corner that, strangely, no one could remember ever seeing before.

For it was this house that had been the subject of a bomb- yes, that’s what it had to be. What else could it have been? Part of the second story had caved in on itself. The front door hung limply on a single hinge. Glass from the windows littered the garden beneath them.

There was a strange gust of wind in an otherwise still night. Mothers pulled their children closer to them as the wind passed. The wind whispered of a secret evil and a villain without a name. As the wind dissipated into the cool air, the fear lifted and the villagers were able to move. Some began to usher their families inside their homes but others ran for the burned husk of a house.

“Careful!” someone yelled. “It could be unstable!”

“There could be people inside,” someone else replied grimly.

Silence passed as people dug through the ruins. Then a scream sounded from one of the onlookers as one of the searchers emerged, holding a body. The searcher gently laid the young man on the cold sidewalk and went back into the house.

One of the town matriarchs stepped forward to examine the body. The man had been young, barely older than twenty. He had unruly black hair and glasses. It was curious, the woman thought, that there was barely a mark upon the man’s body- except for the expression of fear on his face. It didn’t seem right for one so young to look like that and she reached down to close his eyes and smooth his brow.

“John, up here!” someone yelled from inside the house. “Blimey-”

The onlookers didn’t have to wait long before they knew what had startled the searcher. Two of the rescuers rejoined the assembled crowd, both holding bodies.

Immediately, the matriarch’s heart went out to the young woman now lying beside the young man who must have been her husband. Her red hair fanned out around her head like a halo. Her bright green eyes were wide. Somehow, the old woman had the sense that the young woman had died pleading. For what, she didn’t know. She bent down and closed the woman’s eyes. As she stood back up, she noticed that, even though they had been brought out of the house separately, the couple’s hands touched. It seemed fitting.

They were too young, she thought, for this to have happened.

Her attention turned to the third body. She screamed.

The other onlookers rushed over to see what had startled her so. Another woman screamed. The pale, waxy face with the slitted nostrils and red eyes was a face from nightmares. There was a look of fierce triumph on that horrifying face and the matriarch knew that he was the one who had caused the explosion, just as she knew that he was the one who caused the ill wind, though she couldn’t say how.

“Thank you, Bathilda,” a grave voice said from behind her. There was Bathilda Bagshot, an eccentric resident of the village, coming up the road, accompanied by a man with silver hair and beard that the old woman recognized from somewhere and- her gaze halted on him- a giant of a man.

“Of course, Albus,” Bathilda said. “I sent of you as soon as-” Her voice stuttered as her eyes fell on the bodies. “As soon as it happened.”

Albus too stared at the bodies, his gaze sorrowful. Then he turned to the man with the red eyes and his expression turned worried. “But where is Harry?” he murmured. He turned to the giant beside him. “Hagrid, I need you to find Harry.”

“Sir-” Hagrid started to say, pointing at the ruined house.

“I believe he is still alive. Find him. Take him to Hogwarts. I’ll send word when I can,” Albus interrupted. Hagrid nodded. Albus turned back to the bodies. “They cannot be left here,” he said quietly.

The matriarch couldn’t quite recall how the bodies had been removed but one moment they were there and the next, they weren’t. The silver-haired man and Bathilda were gone too, leaving only Hagrid the giant.

He glanced at the old woman. “Anyun’ still in there?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “I don’t believe so.”

“Good.” The giant set off for the house. As the minutes passed, many of the gawking onlookers headed back to their own homes. But the matriarch stayed, waiting for the giant to emerge again.

There was a loud rumble and then a deafening roar and then a giant motorcycle pulled up in front of the house. The man who sat astride it would have been handsome if he hadn’t been so pale and shaking.

“James! Lily!” he shouted. He seemed desperate for someone to answer. When no one did, he started to run for the house.

“Sirius!” Hagrid roared as he emerged from the house, a small bundle in his arms.

“Hagrid, what happened? Where’s-” the man’s eyes fell on the tiny bundle of clothing Hagrid held.

“Harry,” he breathed.

Hagrid cradled the infant in one arm and patted Sirius’ shoulder, sending the younger man reeling. “I’m sorry,” he told Sirius. “I know yeh an’ James were bes’ friends.”

“We were brothers,” Sirius whispered. He looked again at the infant. “Hagrid, give Harry to me.”

“I can’. Dumbledore’s orders.”

“I’m his godfather. I’ll look after him.”

Hagrid nodded. “I know yeh would. But I can’. Dumbledore’s got a plan.”

“Where’s he going to go?” Sirius demanded.

“Dumbledore hasn’ told me yet. He’ll work it out though.”

Sirius stared at him. “I can’t convince you, can I?” he asked. Hagrid shook his head. He sighed. “Take the motorcycle. I won’t need it anymore.”

Hagrid looked slightly shocked and a little suspicious but he said, “Thank yeh. I’ll return it when I can.”

Another deafening roar and Hagrid was gone. Only Sirius and the matriarch remained in the street. Sirius clutched the gate, his eyes narrowing. “Peter,” he muttered angrily. He strode off and was swallowed up by the darkness. The old woman waited another minute to see if anyone else would arrive. But no one did and she made her way slowly back to her own home, her mind occupied with thoughts of ill winds and men with red eyes.

The next morning, the ruined house was gone. The lot stood vacant as though the house had never existed.

Of course, to the villagers of Godric’s Hollow, their memories properly Modified, it never had.


End file.
